


Don't Cha

by lexyhamilton (ohheichoumyheichou)



Category: Pineapple Express (2008)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 02:07:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2370473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohheichoumyheichou/pseuds/lexyhamilton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the bit Seth Rogen and James Franco did cosplaying their PE characters at the Oscars, singing ABBA karaoke for about 2 seconds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Cha

"Hey, you have more costumes here at home!"

"What?" Dale calls out without much interest. Saul's been acting weird ever since they dropped Red off at the hospital. He basically invited himself over to Dale's apartment to smoke a bowl together. It doesn't help that as soon as they walked through the door, Dale is suddenly feeling the effects of not having slept all night. He just managed to pull on a pair of pants and is now slumped on the couch in a stupor, not all that excited about getting high when he's already woozy on sleep deprivation. "The bong is in the same corner as the bed! Stop fooling around in there." 'Fuckwit' Dale adds under his breath.

Instead of bringing out the bong, Saul prances out in one of Angie's outfits-- a short skirt and a cashmere sweater designed to show off cleavage, now just stretched tight across Saul's flat wide torso. "I'm here to process and service you!"

"Dude, what the hell, that's Angie's stuff."

"Really?" Saul doesn't seem to be paying attention, sashaying his hips back and forth in a way that makes Dale question whether this is the first time he's impersonating a woman.

"Cut it out, you're going to stretch it beyond the point of no return! It's gonna smell like you."

"Why, what do I smell like?" Saul sniffs down at his armpit.

"Nothing good. Take it off! She's going to be so pissed, I'm not kidding."

"Is she even coming back for this stuff? Didn't you guys break up?" Saul says, straightening out wrinkles in the pleated skirt with large, meaty hands. It looks very wrong.

"I don't know, but take it off. It's creeping me out when you wear it."

"Okay, okay, fine. Jesus." Saul skips out of the living room, not quite feminine enough to look good skipping.

Dale sighs in disbelief. Something tells him he should never have shown Saul where he lives. He stares off into space, listening to Saul muck around doing godknowswhat.

Saul wanders back into the living room, still dressed into Angie's outfit, now brushing his hair with her fancy Revlon hairbrush. "Hey, this feels soooo good on the scalp. Like, if I had this, I would brush my hair several times a day."

Dale blinks at him, not even bothering to speak.

Saul does that lip-biting grin thing and holds the hairbrush like a microphone. "Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot. like. me." He makes a bunch of weird dance moves-- sort of clumsy but better than Dale would have expected from him. Saul gets closer and is effectively giving Dale a lapdance, but he's also singing the song in horrible sliding falsetto and gigglesnorting in a way only stoned people can do at their own stupid antics. "Don't cha. Don't cha."

"Dude. You're being such a homo. You're not even high." Dale tries to look away as Saul continues unperturbed, shaking his ass. Even though Saul's bare legs look muscular and offputting coming out of that cute little skirt, Dale feels arousal coming on. He hasn't jacked off in the several days they've been so inseparably on the run together and he kicks himself for it now.

"Don't chaaaaaa--"

"You sang that part already."

"I forget the rest." Saul slumps down into Dale's lap, and the skirt flies up momentarily. Dale doesn't know why he was staring down there in the first place, but he totally gets flashed by Saul's cock.

"Jesus, what the hell? Are you commando under there?"

"Yeah, my boxers are like longer than this skirt! Was Angie a slut or something?"

"Not as slutty as you're acting right now." Dale tries not to think about how Saul's bare cock is lying right on his lap right now. The more he tries the more he fails.

"Hey, don't get me wrong, bro. Everyone wants a nympho girlfriend. They're the best."

"Dude, are you still high somehow? Do you have internal reserves of THC that your body just like summons up when you threaten to get sober?"

"No, what the fuck." Saul says defensively. "I had Super Red Espresso Snowflake at Bubbe's, but that was like, more than an hour ago."

"You smoked in the retirement home?!"

"Yeah, in Bubbe's bathroom. I keep an emergency stash in her sink cabinet."

"You are such an idiot. What if she gets in trouble for it?"

"She doesn't know it's there, come on."

"Doesn't that make it worse? Whatever." Dale watches Saul as he squirms to seat himself more comfortably on Dale's thighs. "Jesusfuck, are you planning to wear that all day?"

Saul shrugs.

"I wish you could see what a homo you're being right now."

Saul tilts his head, looking straight down at the erection Dale wishes to God would go away asap. "Shut up, you're the one who's turned on!"

"It's because you're rubbing up against me, dumbass. Get off, seriously. I think you're still high on the Espresso crap."

Saul's expression changes to something strange. He slides off Dale's lap but instead of leaving and going to change, he kneels down and begins undoing Dale's belt. Dale knows where this is going, deep down, but he's too tired to deal with it. "What the hell, dude," is all he can mutter. He knows he should be saying something, voicing his disgust with this, giving Saul an earful for being so wasted and retarded, but he just lets it continue until Saul has already taken his cock out into the chill air and starts licking around the base before swallowing down the entire length.

"Wait..." Dale manages to mumble out, pushing Saul's forehead away. Saul relents for a moment, but as soon as Dale's hand drifts down to the couch, he resumes, and Dale doesn't have the will to stop him again. Dale leans his head back, and his hand migrates to the back of Saul's head, gripping his greasy hair and bandanna that he still has on, and even begins pulling Saul's head in, something he'd never do with a girl because they'd freak out and choke, but Saul's a guy's guy, and God is he good at this... Dale comes into Saul's mouth and Saul doesn't even flinch away, sucks him bone-dry before letting Dale's cock flop out of his mouth and proceeding with kisses upward, past the navel, until he's kissing Dale's neck and repositions himself to sit on Dale's lap again, leaning on Dale so that both of the bodies rise up and down with Dale's heavy post-orgasmic breathing.

Saul presses foreheads, noses, cradling Dale's jaw in his large hands before kissing, and Dale feels bad about being grossed out by possible spunk breath when Saul just lovingly gave him the blowjob of a lifetime. They just french in silence, and Dale only flinches when Saul accidentally grazes his injured ear with his fingertips.

"Sorry, man. I forgot."

Dale is relieved to have a different subject of conversation than the obvious one at hand. "It's fine, it'll heal. How's your nose? It looks pretty fucked up, to be honest."

Saul rubs the swollen bridge of his nose. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure she broke it. I don't know. At least I don't taste blood anymore. I think it was dripping backwards into my throat sometimes."

Dale grimaces, then looks down at the couch pattern. "You're gonna have one of those deviated septums if you don't fix it."

"I guess..."

There's a long awkward silence. Saul bites his lip and picks up the hairbrush and starts working out the knots in his hair, mostly just tearing them out. Dale watches him, listening to his wall clock ticking, trying to decide how he feels about what just happened. He rubs Saul's thigh and tentatively squeezes an asscheek. Saul's eyes fly up at him, and Dale watches an erection start to lift up the hem of the skirt. Dale coughs as casually as he can. "So, I'm not gonna lie. That was pretty fantastic."

"Thanks, man!" Saul says, a little too quickly and a little too joyously, then bites his lower lip in embarrassment. But Dale can see that he's relieved. The question is what the hell it all means. He's not about to broach the subject. They're buddies with benefits, as far as Dale is concerned, though the thought that Saul didn't get much benefit doesn't escape him and even begins to nag at the back of his mind.

"So... that can't have been like... the first cock you ever sucked?" Dale ventures very carefully, not knowing what he'd prefer the answer to be.

"Well, actually... it pretty much is," Saul says quietly, looking down at Dale's undone belt. "Unless you count just barely being able to reach my own when I was fourteen?"

"Wait, what?"

"Like putting my back against a wall upside down and curving as much as I could."

"I honestly didn't know that was possible."

"Yeah, I could only do it upside down. They have a whole porn category of it. Anyway, I couldn't do it after a while... got less flexible or something..."

"Longer torso..."

"Yeah, probably. Too many ribs. Sucked. But it wasn't all that great to begin with. It was just too strenuous, you know?"

"I can imagine." Another awkward silence and Dale knows, knows! that he should be offering Saul a reciprocated blowjob right about now, if they're really bfff's with benefits, but he just doesn't have it in him. "What about you..." he finally mumbles, waving his head slightly down to Saul's crotch.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot," Saul says laughing, and picks up the hem of the skirt to grasp his cock. He spits in his palm and starts rubbing the shaft up and down.

"Do you want...?" Dale's hand hesitates above Saul's.

"Naw, fuck that." Saul shakes his head dismissively. "It's not like you owe me or something, come on. That'd be lame."

Dale doesn't rebut him but still pulls Saul's hand away and replace it with his own, hitching the cashmere sweater up to Saul's armpits to suck on his nipples. Dale realizes he's using blatantly heterosexual moves, but Saul doesn't seem to mind, his whole body writhing under Dale's touch, making more appreciative sounds per minute than all of Dale's previous sexual partners combined.

Dale catches Saul's jizz with his other hand and is all ready to stand up and wash up when Saul begins to lick his hand clean. Dale's first reaction is utter disgust, but then rationally there's no reason to be so off-put. Dale even feels faint excitement stirring again when Saul's tongue is delving between all his fingers like that. How can someone be so sweet and affectionate and dirty and nasty all at once? 'Nasty' is the wrong word, certainly. 'Sexually uninhibited', maybe. Dale decides to stick with the positive spin.

They sit side by side in the aftermath, heads thrown back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. Saul asks if he should bring in the bong from the other room but Dale tells him not to bother, playing around idly with the skirt's pleats.


End file.
